Birthday Girl
by SpikesLittleBit
Summary: COMPLETE! Buffy and Dawn head to LA after Buffy has a disturbing dream about Spike. RR! Last chapter up!
1. Prologue

TITLE: Birthday Girl  
  
AUTHOR: SpikesLittleBit  
  
DISCLAIMER: I don't own the shows, we know, we know!  
  
SUMMARY: Post Time Bomb, my hopes for what The Girl in Question would be like if they actually had interaction with Buffy (which, they don't; SMG does not apparently appear in the episode). So in other words, A/U, Mostly Spuffy, cause Bungel just sounds like a foot rash ointment. (Sorry for all the BA shippers, but I'm a BS shipper!) [May 5, 2004; I have not yet seen The Girl in Question, in A/U, this would probably replace it.]  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I know, "You haven't posted in forever and when you do you don't finish!" Or, "You've started this piece a hundred times!" OK, reasoning, I don't finish cause I'm super busy with work, but I finish when I'm unemployed. Go figure. When I'm working, I A.) get too busy to even touch a computer for writing reasons or B.) get the biggest case of writer's block you've ever seen. Also, it's gonna be so much easier in 2 ½ weeks with the end of Angel. I was so pissed when I heard that news, but then I realized, ooh!!! I can stop worrying about continuity, cause then I can just take off! I hate A/U as it were.  
  
Don't be surprised if this gets rewritten, that's all I'm saying!  
  
Birthday Girl "Prologue"  
  
Buffy's eyes fluttered open dramatically that morning. She really didn't want to wake up, because she knew that it meant that it was Tuesday, and Tuesday was progress day for the Watcher's Council. She was always seriously disturbed about Progress Day. That, and on this particular progress day, Giles and Andrew were coming to visit her and her sister.  
  
She took a peek at her alarm clock. 6:58. The alarm would go off in two more minutes anyway. Might as well just get up, she thought to herself. She sat up in her bed and jadedly rubbed her eyes. As she opened them once again, she noticed something rather odd about her room. No longer was she in the small Italian villa she shared with her sister, Dawn. Strangely enough she was surrounded by the pale green and white stripes of her Sunnydale bedroom.  
  
She looked all around her. Everything seemed to be in place: her white iron framed bed, her green antiqued drawers, matching desk and nightstand, even her blue upside down lamp was right where it should be. She ran her fingers over her lavender floral bedspread. It was most certainly real. She got up in an instant and poked her head outside the window. Outside, Revello drive was quiet except for the gentle breeze that rustled the leaves of the tree outside her cozy Craftsman home. She glanced about the room once more and noticed that everything was right where she had left it over a year ago, except for one thing.  
  
She noticed the crimson sleeve sticking out from under her bed and recognized it at once. She bent down, pulled the dust ruffle up carefully and peered under the bed. Nothing but the shirt. She picked it up off the floor, stood up and examined it. It was soft cotton, as if it had been through the fluff cycle a few too many times, but other than that, it was unblemished. She gently rubbed the faint striping. The color was unmistaken to her, mainly because it always reminded her of blood drying. She pulled it up to her nose and took in the faded fragrances of Scotch and Marlboro Reds. A single tear fell from her cheek in the memory of the shirt's owner.  
  
After she regained her composure, she decided to hang the shirt in the closet, as a reminder. She reached out and barely touched the doorknob as it gave a slight shock to her delicate skin. Curious, she opened the door. A rush of a soft candescence poured from the closet and there stood her best friend Willow, cradling the mystical scythe that bestowed Slayer- strength to the potentials. Her now white hair wisped around her face in a soft breeze and her eyes sparkled a brilliant aqua that matched the beautiful sari that draped her picturesque frame.  
  
"Uh, Will? Whatcha doin' in my closet?" Buffy asked confused.  
  
"I can feel it, Buffy," she replied as if in a daze. "It's really there."  
  
"What? What's there?"  
  
"It kinda stings."  
  
As the closet doors swiftly but gently closed between them, her bedroom door slowly swung open. Looking at the shirt in her hands, she put it on over her camisole and headed through the doorway. However, this was not her hallway.  
  
The walls glistened a dazzling white, making the corridor seem to go on for miles. The black and white diamond floors gave off a surreal feeling, along with the single wooden door at the end of the hall. Buffy could almost make out the figure standing at the end of the hall mopping the floor. She briskly walked down the hallway to the scruffy man, whom she recognized as her other best friend Xander. He looked as though he had not only cleaned this hall, but thirty more as well.  
  
"Xander," she said gently. He looked at her with a withered tenderness.  
  
"Go on then," he replied as he nodded toward the large oak door. "It's for me to do the cleanup."  
  
As she stepped past him to the door, he went back to determinedly mopping the floor. She turned the golden doorknob and stepped through the portal. She found herself in a grand library filled with every book ever written in this dimension and others. At the center of the room was a great mahogany desk, texts, compendiums and papers strewn everywhere. Behind the mound, she found Giles, her Watcher, working frantically on deciphering a demon language.  
  
"Giles? Maybe you could tell me what's going on?" she asked. He looked up at her, rose and crossed to her.  
  
"Gotta move, lamb," he said as he stroked her cheek.  
  
"But, I don't understand," she stated sternly.  
  
"I mean it!" he screamed as he rushed back behind the desk. He started rummaging through the papers again. "I gotta do this," he added earnestly. She looked upon him with sadness as she moved towards the next door.  
  
She pulled on the iron door-ring, and it opened with ease. A cool breeze swept past her and she hugged the red shirt closer to her. She found herself outside, in the excavation site where she had slain the first of the Turok-Han. All of a sudden, the demonstration seemed as if it had happened only moments ago. She looked up at the scaffolding and she could see Andrew, Vi, Kennedy, Amanda, Mollie, Rona and at least five other potentials staring down at her. A sweeping sound came from behind her and she whipped around to find Faith sparring with thin air. As Buffy began to open her mouth to say something, she stopped punching the nothingness and stepped to her.  
  
"It's your world up there," Faith said with a friendly grin and nodded towards an opening in the scaffolding. As Buffy turned around to see it, the potentials, in unison, pointed towards it. She took a few steps and turned back to Faith.  
  
"Now go," she said, then went back to her sparring.  
  
Buffy climbed up and pulled herself onto a rock ledge, where she stood before a cavern opening. She took a deep breath and stepped inside. Surprisingly, the cave was brightly lit by an unseen force, so that she was not in complete darkness. She moved through the passages until she came upon a clearing. As she looked around the stark cave, she began to recognize it as the battlefield where she and the potentials fought off hundreds upon thousands of Turok-Han. Now, the cavern was empty, except for the light pouring in from her right. She glanced over to see just the amulet suspended right where Spike died. She moved towards it. It rotated slowly, letting off an amber glow.  
  
"God, I miss him," she whispered as she reached out and let the amulet pass her fingertips.  
  
"No, you don't," came a voice from the entrance she had used. Buffy turned to see her sister, Dawn, looking upon her hopefully.  
  
"How can you even say-"  
  
"But, thanks for saying it," Dawn replied. Buffy began to realize what everyone was trying to tell her. She looked down at the red shirt that draped her small frame and she began to play with the open corners.  
  
"I want to see how it ends," Dawn said, a mischievous grin spreading across her face.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Buffy sat straight up in her bed and panted in a cold sweat. She looked around and found herself back in her room in the small Italian villa in Rome. As she calmed down, she began to hear laughter and bustle from below her indicating that Giles and Andrew had arrived. She pulled herself away from the bed and looked around for a robe. She looked down beside her bed, and sure enough, the red sleeve was just peeking out from under the dust ruffle.  
  
She jerked the shirt out from under the bed. It was just as she had remembered from the dream. She pulled it to her nose and the perfumes of Scotch and cigarettes were still there. The shirt in hand, she dashed out of her room and down the stairs.  
  
The giggles ceased as Buffy burst through the doors of the kitchen. Everyone stopped and worriedly gazed upon her. Andrew gently set down his cappuccino cup that he had just accepted from Dawn, and Giles gingerly removed his glasses.  
  
"He's alive," she simply stated. 


	2. Excuses

DISCLAIMER IS ON FIRST PAGE  
  
Birthday Girl, "Excuses"  
  
"What?" Giles asked calmly as his slayer stood there, her hand in a fist around the sleeve of a red shirt and her knuckles turning white.  
  
"Spike. He's alive."  
  
"How can you be sure? You said yourself that he burned from the inside," Giles tried to reason with her. He could see the fire of longing coursing through her green eyes and knew this would be a battle she would try to win.  
  
"I had a dream. I woke up in Sunnydale, and I kept going through different rooms, and a red shirt was under my bed, and everyone talked real cryptically. Then, I realized, everyone was saying his last words."  
  
"Yes, but that doesn't necessarily mean that-"  
  
"Then, when I woke up, this was under my bed," she said, cutting him off as she handed it to her Watcher. He took the shirt and examined it.  
  
"Still, you may have worn it out one night..."  
  
"Giles, smell it. It reeks of Scotch and cigarettes," she began. "You KNOW who it belongs to. Plus, I can pretty much tell you that it was not there when I went to bed last night."  
  
The four of them sat silent for a few minutes. Andrew shifted uncomfortably in his chair a few times. He tried his best not to look at Buffy directly. The thoughts of his trip to Los Angeles played over and over in his mind. Buffy let out a sigh and glanced at him.  
  
"Andrew?" Dawn asked as he jumped in is chair.  
  
"What?! Um, I mean, yes, Dawnie?" he replied.  
  
"How's Dana?"  
  
His eyes grew wide. This was the very moment that he didn't want to talk about ANYTHING pertaining to his trip to Wolfram and Hart. He made a promise to keep a secret, and he intended to, but as many of them knew, Andrew was terrible at keeping those secrets.  
  
"Um, she's doing better, her delusions are becoming more and more stable. Her memories and the visions of past slayers are mixing less and less. We've moved her to a facility just outside the city, so that Buffy, Vampyr- Slayer extraordinaire, could possibly visit and work with her a bit, like we discussed."  
  
"Huh?" Buffy asked. She had been deep in thought about her dream and the shirt. "Oh. Actually, I think I'll go see her this afternoon."  
  
"Buffy," Giles began. "Please, don't automatically think that your dream is a prophecy. It may just be... your feelings may have been locked up and this could be a manifestation coming forth."  
  
"Giles, this was too real. If I just push this aside as a normal everyday dream, I'd be making excuses for myself," she replied as Andrew excused himself and went into the den to use the phone.  
  
"Please don't take this too hard, Buffy, but maybe Giles is right," Dawn said gently as she sat down. "Maybe it's your heart telling you that you've held on too long and you need to let go."  
  
"But it still doesn't explain the shirt," Buffy retorted. They sat in a fleeting silence as Andrew entered the room again.  
  
"It's all set. Your appointment is for one-thirty."  
  
"Thanks," she replied quietly, looking down at the shirt. Thoughts passed throughout her mind and she couldn't keep them straight. "Dawn, don't you have school?"  
  
"Saturday," she answered as she popped a piece of prociutto ham into her mouth.  
  
"Right. Saturday," Buffy said softly as she ran her fingers over the stripes in the shirt.  
  
"We'll leave you two alone. Andrew and I have some lessons to go over," Giles said as he rose and motioned for Andrew to leave the room.  
  
"Buffy, are you going to be okay?" Dawn asked her sister gently.  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"Is there anything I can do?"  
  
Buffy thought for a moment. Suddenly it came to her. The amulet. It came from Wolfram and Hart. They gave it to Angel and he brought it to her, and she placed it in the hands of Spike. They had to have information on it, and with luck, they might give her something on it.  
  
"Yeah. After we all leave, call Wesley. Ask him if they have any info on that amulet, and tell him that it's important. I want to know what they know."  
  
"Sure. Not a problem," she replied. Buffy rose from the table and took a sip of her coffee.  
  
"Thanks, Dawn. I'm gonna go take a shower."  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Dawn checked her watch. 1:30. The others had been gone over an hour. She put down her book and picked up the phone and the phone number that Buffy had left for her. She carefully dialed the number and waited for someone to pick up the line.  
  
"Wolfram and Hart."  
  
"Uh, yeah. Can I speak to Wesley Wyndam-Pryce?"  
  
"Can I ask who's calling?"  
  
"Dawn Sum-"  
  
"Dawnie?!?!" the receptionist cut her off. Dawn pulled the phone away and looked at it confused.  
  
"Who is.."  
  
"It's Harmony! How are you?"  
  
"Uh, Fine," she replied, confused as ever to hear THAT voice on the other end. "Listen, Harmony, I'd really like to chat, but I do need to talk to Wesley."  
  
"Sure, I think he's in his office, Hold a sec."  
  
Dawn took a deep sigh as cheesy elevator music played over the line. Finally someone picked up the phone.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Wesley?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Is Wesley there?"  
  
"He's down in the training center. This is Spike," the other line echoed. Dawn dropped the phone loudly on the floor and her eyes grew as wide as tortillas. She cupped her hand over her mouth and a tear fell from her cheek as she heard him call out into the phone. She bent down gently and picked up the receiver as Giles and Andrew came in the room, causing her to hurriedly hang up.  
  
"Dawn? Are you alright?" Giles asked her. She snapped back to reality and nodded. How could she tell him that Buffy was right, when they had been so skeptical?  
  
"Yeah, I was, just... calling Maria, my friend... from school," she stammered. She looked past him to Andrew, who was munching on bread from the bakery down the street. Giles nodded to her and excused himself upstairs.  
  
"Mr. Giles has to send a watcher to retrieve a trainee. Here's the paper." Dawn took the newspaper from his hands and read the headlines aloud.  
  
"Boy survives van accident, so?"  
  
"He was walking to his car when a van came out of nowhere and slammed him into his garage. He walked without a scratch and the driver of the van died."  
  
"Oh... that IS something," she said, a bit shocked. She looked back down at the phone in her hands and took a staggered breath.  
  
"You really weren't on the phone with a friend were you," Andrew said, breaking the silence.  
  
"I was, honestly. I needed to know about my History assignment," she lied, but could tell that Andrew knew something was up.  
  
"Excuses, excuses," he sighed as he patted her on the shoulder and went upstairs. 


	3. Phone Calls and Meetings

DISCLAIMER IS ON FIRST PAGE  
  
Birthday Girl "Phone Calls and Meetings"  
  
Spike stared at the phone as the other end hung up frantically on him. He shrugged, placed the receiver on the base, and put his ice pack back on his forehead. He heaved a great sigh as he flopped down in a chair and Wesley entered the office.  
  
"How's your head?" he asked as he moved around his desk to his seat.  
  
"Bint's a bloody menace. And you know, I'm really getting sick of being on crazy demon powerhouse detail," Spike whined.  
  
"Spike, you do know that her strength was substantially decreased by that spell, don't you?" Wesley asked.  
  
"Uh...yeah, of course," he replied coolly as if he knew all along. "Oh, and you had a call, but they hung up."  
  
Wesley nodded and began to thumb through an open codex on his desk.  
  
"Hey Wes?" Harmony said as she poked her head into his office. "Did you get that call?"  
  
"Sorry, no. I was in the training center. Why, was it important?"  
  
"Dunno. It was Dawn Summers, and she sounded persistent."  
  
A shiver went through Spike as the name pierced through his ears. His skin became clammy and even paler as he took in a small gasp.  
  
"Spike?" Wesley asked.  
  
"Nibblet," he whispered. He traced his forehead with his fingertips. He could feel the cold sweat beading on his brow as he took another staggered breath. "She knows."  
  
"I knew this was bound to happen. They were going to find out sooner or later that you were alive," Harmony insisted.  
  
"Harmony, would you give us a minute, please," Wesley said, dismissing her. He came around and sat in the seat next to Spike as she exited the office. "She's right. We should have informed them months ago. It wasn't right for us to keep it from them."  
  
"No!" Spike snapped, forcing back tears. "It wasn't time. How do you explain..." he trailed off. He looked upon the worried look on Wesley's face. "She shouldn't have found out like that," he mumbled.  
  
"Maybe you should take the rest of the day to gather your thoughts," Wesley offered.  
  
"What bout Joan of Arc?" Spike asked, referring to Illyria.  
  
"I'll take care of Illyria, you go and get a drink on me, Wesley replied, taking a ten dollar bill from his wallet. Spike nodded, accepted the money and stalked out.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Buffy arrived a bit early to the rehab facility. She parked her car, straightened herself out, and headed towards the entrance. Folded neatly into her tote bag purse was the crimson shirt.  
  
"Buffy Summers. I have an appointment with Dana," she said calmly to the receptionist. His eyes grew wide at the sound of the patient's name. Apparently, Dana had been gaining a reputation amongst the facilities.  
  
"I take you to wing, but guard will accompany to cell," he explained in broken English. He rose, whispered to a secretary seated behind him, who assumed his chair, and they headed for the elevators.  
  
"You from Watcher's Council?" the receptionist asked as he held the door open for her. He pushed the 4th floor button and the elevator began to move.  
  
"How did you-"  
  
"I retire from Council six year ago," he stated, cutting her off. "I had slayer in 1964. She was killed by vampire mob. She not like you."  
  
"Not like me?" Buffy asked curiously.  
  
"You Buffy. Greatest slayer to ever live."  
  
"Not really," she replied modestly. She couldn't believe that this elderly gentleman from Italy had heard of her.  
  
"You are. You gave potentials strength and bravery. You mold them like clay. Together, you defeat First Evil. That make you great."  
  
The elevator stopped. The floor was dimmer than the one they left, not many windows. The receptionist signed her over to the guard and took the elevator back to the ground level. Buffy hurriedly pulled out her notebook and pen as she followed the guard to a visitation cell, which was empty.  
  
'You sit here," he said in perfect English, obviously American. He pointed to the chair that faced the door. "If she gets out of control, there's a button right under the edge of the table. I'll be right outside."  
  
As he left, she noticed that the other chair was bolted to the floor and shackles were chained to the floor on either side. A few moments went by and the door opened. Another guard entered with a stick-taser, followed by two orderlies escorting Dana. She calmly sat and allowed them the men to clasp the shackles to her wrists, never taking her eyes off of Buffy. One of the orderlies looked up and regarded the worldly slayer.  
  
"No worry, she's, how you say, been drugged. Should be lucid in few moments, perhaps," he reported. Buffy nodded and the three men exited the room. They were now alone. Buffy opened her notebook and dated the page. Dana watched her every movement until she looked back up at her.  
  
"Dana," Buffy began gently, "do you know who I am?"  
  
"Yes," she answered, "you're Buffy. You were the Chosen One, and now we are all slayers."  
  
"Right. Andrew tells me you're doing... a lot better."  
  
"A little... still get visions."  
  
"What kind of visions?" she asked as she scribbled on the page.  
  
"Past slayers... you... me...past vampires, present vampires... good vampires."  
  
Buffy looked at her sincerely and nodded. Dana knew something about Spike, or maybe Angel. She remembered that Andrew advised her to stay on a linear logic to keep her focused. Dana fidgeted in her seat. Buffy could tell that this may be difficult as the drugs had not yet kicked in. Andrew also warned her that she may go into crazy ramblings if that was the case.  
  
"Dana, I need you to do something for me," she said gently. "I need you to try and remember what happened the night we came and got you... in LA."  
  
Dana started to look around the room and at the table. She would not look directly at Buffy. She shivered in nervousness. She seemed as if it was a painful subject, as if she was ashamed.  
  
"I didn't meant to do it," she mumbled. "I didn't mean to. I knew... head, heart... heart, head... no more touching, no more hands... brown makes you sleepy, yellow makes you weak." Her tones were fragmented and she paused like crazy. As she spoke, Buffy took notes, trying to make sense of it all.  
  
"Brown and yellow what, Dana?"  
  
"Drugs. One makes you sleepy, another makes you weak; one makes you giggle, another makes you speak," she rhymed slowly.  
  
"Did someone hurt you that night?"  
  
"He did... he hurt me, he bled me... wasn't him. Someone else... someone bad, someone good. Saw him... saw another in his place. Mixed up. Someone else killed... killed them, not me. I made a mistake. No more touching, no more hands."  
  
Dana flinched a few more times. Buffy could tell that the drugs were starting to kick in. She heaved a sigh and the slayer stopped writing for a second.  
  
"What do you mean, no more hands?"  
  
"Surgical saw. Cut through flesh, cut through bone."  
  
Buffy could feel her stomach acid rise to her throat at the thought of this frail girl cutting off someone's hands.  
  
"Can you tell me what he looked like?"  
  
"Grey shirt... blue jeans... dark hair," Dana replied. Buffy gave a discouraged sigh as she noticed her flinch and tears rolled from her chocolate eyes as she realized she was wrong. "Wait! Wasn't him... black shirt, black pants, black coat. Came to... sad eyes, very sad eyes. Blue eyes."  
  
Buffy stopped writing and focused on the fragile girl before her. Dana swiped her tears with her fingertips, and continued.  
  
"Killed before, never there. Did worse, more than he'd like," she said, her thoughts beginning to straighten out. She looked her straight in the eye. "Conquered many, obsessed with one... that's you, honey."  
  
A tear streamed down Buffy's cheek as she recalled the conversation with Spike about the slayers he had killed. He called her that, and more. He loved her.  
  
"Not me," Dana continued. "Never me." Her thoughts began to jumble just as the drugs fully kicked in. "Got to get home, my boy is waiting for me... get home to Robin."  
  
"Nikki," Buffy whispered.  
  
"Snapped neck... subway. But never there," she stammered. "Smelled different... Scotch and cigarettes, ink and parchment... fool for love, demon from hell."  
  
Buffy began writing again, much more frantically now. She wanted proof. She looked up from her notebook to find Dana burning her stare into her.  
  
"I know why you're here," Dana said, completely lucid now, "what you want to know."  
  
"What is that, Dana?" Buffy asked gingerly.  
  
"Seek out the Songbird. The Songbird sails the silver city, singing songs so very low. The Songbird stays within the sunshine city, singing songs of salvage and woe."  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 


	4. The Songbird

DISCLAIMER IS ON FIRST PAGE  
  
Birthday Girl "The Songbird"  
  
"I'm home!" Buffy called shakily as she entered the villa and dropped her keys on the table next to the door. She sauntered into the kitchen, where she found Andrew wearing an unusually frilly apron and engrossing himself in a cookbook. "What are you doing?"  
  
"Oh, just whipping up a bit of penne pomodoro a la Andrew for dinner."  
  
"I'm now officially frightened. Where's Dawn?"  
  
"In her room, I think," he replied. He noticed the nervousness that poured off of her as she left the room. Something was definitely up. Perhaps Dana told her about Spike being alive, or maybe she was too incoherent to tell her anything at all.  
  
Buffy reached the top of the stairs and stepped in front of Dawn's door. She tapped lightly with her fingers until summoned to come in. She turned the knob slowly and poked her head into the room.  
  
"Hey," said Buffy.  
  
"How was Dana?" Dawn replied.  
  
"A bit incoherent, but I think I got what I needed, except..." she trailed off. She took out her notes, sat down on the bed and showed them to Dawn. She ran her fingers across the scribbles until she found the poem. "This. She recited this."  
  
"The songbird? What's that supposed to mean?" Dawn asked.  
  
"I don't know, but sunshine city?"  
  
"Los Angeles" Dawn recalled.  
  
Buffy and Dawn walked through the tunnel and entered the bright lights of the Los Angeles Airport the next morning. Their flight was arduous and the food wasn't all that great either. They walked down and grabbed their bags from the turnstiles and rested a moment to gather their thoughts.  
  
"You think we should just head straight for Wolfram and Hart?" Dawn asked.  
  
"Maybe we should find a hotel first," Buffy replied. They gathered their stuff and started for the security check when Dawn spotted a souvenir stand.  
  
"Hold a sec. Andrew said if I don't bring him something he would throw a temper tantrum when we got back."  
  
"And I so don't need that headache," Buffy added.  
  
As Dawn entered, Buffy spotted a familiar figure at the register buying a pack of cigarettes. He was unmistakable. The loud Hawaiian shirt, the fedora, the rat face. She stalked up behind him and poked his shoulder forcefully, causing him to jump and whip around to face her.  
  
"Whistler, should have known."  
  
"Hey! My, you're all grown up! What brings you here?"  
  
"That was gonna be my question. But then again, I think I just figured out my cryptic message."  
  
"I hate those," he said with a grin as he took his change from the clerk. "I figured you'd be here sooner or later. How's Dana?"  
  
"How do you know about Dana?"  
  
"It's my job to know about these things," he replied as Dawn rejoined her sister. He stuffed the cigarette pack into his pocket and motioned them to follow him out the door. "Let me guess, prophetic dreaming?"  
  
Buffy stopped for a moment. She looked at Dawn, who was fidgeting with the bag she acquired at the souvenir stand.  
  
"Dawn, why don't you go on ahead and talk to Wesley. I'll catch up to you a bit later. If you need me, call," Buffy said gently to her. She gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and watched the teenager walk off to get a cab. "Okay, I'm listening," she began to the human-faced demon, "why are you here?"  
  
"To give you your birthday present. I know it's a bit late, but... you want to see this." 


	5. Seeking Truth

DISCLAIMER IS ON FIRST PAGE  
  
"Birthday Girl" Seeking Truth  
  
Spike exited the elevator that morning a bit sluggishly from his hangover. He sauntered past the stairwell and stopped at Harmony's desk to check on the day's events.  
  
"God, you look like hell," she remarked bluntly. Spike gave her a sarcastic smirk in return.  
  
"Illyria isn't around, is she?"  
  
"She's up in the lab," Harmony replied as she handed him his clipboard, and a cup of warm blood. The mug appropriately read, "I've used all my sick days, I'm calling in dead."  
  
"Cute," he remarked as he took it from her. "I'll be in the training center. Whatever you do, don't let Ice-Eyes near me for a couple of hours."  
  
"Yeah, yeah," she muttered as he walked off. She let out a sigh and began organizing Angel's notes for his meeting with the Waklauh Shamans.  
  
Just as Spike's white hair was around the corner and out of sight of the lobby, the elevator doors slid open again and a jet-lagged Dawn stumbled out. She took in the breathless sight of the enormous room and a small smile crept across her face. She just caught a glimpse of the reception desk as Harmony bounced out of her chair and ran up to greet her.  
  
"Dawn!" she cried as she gave her a big hug. "How are you!"  
  
"I talked to you yesterday, remember?" Dawn asked in confusion.  
  
"Right. You know, I bet Wesley isn't busy if you want to talk to him," she replied as she interlocked her arm around Dawn's and led her to his office. "He's been a bit out of it lately, but I'm sure you could cheer him right up!"  
  
She knocked loudly on the door of the former Watcher's office. There came a stifled invitation from inside, and Harmony opened the door to allow the teenager to enter.  
  
"Dawn," Wesley began. He rose to shake the girl's hand. "What brings you here?"  
  
"Research gal. Buffy wants some info."  
  
"Is she here?" he asked, alarmed.  
  
"No, she kinda had a last minute thing with, I guess an old friend."  
  
"I see," Wesley said as rubbed the bridge of his nose. The girl looked cautiously upon him, and he gave a slight smile. "Well, how about a tour, hmm?"  
  
"Great, where can I park my stuff?"  
  
"Why don't we find somewhere in the conference room. I wouldn't trust it in here," Harmony suggested as she grabbed Dawn's suitcase and backpack. She led the two out of the room and towards Angel's office, grabbing his notes and cup of blood on the way, not spilling a single drop. Wesley lightly tapped on the door and poked his head inside.  
  
"Angel?"  
  
"Yeah," he answered from behind his desk, his nose buried in an ancient Waklauh text. "Whatcha need?"  
  
"It seems we have a visitor," Wesley stated as he allowed Dawn to pass him into the grand office. Angel looked up to meet her green eyes that reminded him so much of her sister and gave her a warm smile.  
  
"Hello, Dawn," he said elegantly. He rose and moved around his desk to greet her. As he put out his hand, she instead gave him a big hug.  
  
"Sorry," she said as she pulled away, swiping a tear from her cheek. "I kinda needed it. It's just... been awhile."  
  
"So, how's school?"  
  
"Good, graduate next year, but that's not what you really wanted to ask."  
  
"What?"  
  
"She's fine, she's here, she's busy right now, but promises to come by later to see you."  
  
"Oh, well... that's good," Angel stammered. He gave a slight nod to the girl who was uneasily smiling at them. "You just get here?"  
  
"Yeah, Wesley was about to take me on a tour," she said softly. She let out a shallow breath. "It's nice to see you. I'll be back to talk later, you seem to have your hands full now."  
  
"Yeah, come back about two maybe?"  
  
"Sure," she said as she followed Wesley and Harmony out of the office. She looked around the lobby for a moment trying to take it all in. "Boy, this place sure is big," she muttered.  
  
"Yes, well, let's get started shall we?" Wesley suggested. He nodded to Harmony, who scurried back to her desk. "Let's start with the training center and we'll work our way back around and then upstairs." Dawn nodded in agreement and they set off down the hall. They had just passed the break room when Wesley broke the silence between them.  
  
"So, Harmony said you called yesterday."  
  
"Oh," Dawn replied as she looked at the wonders of her feet, "yeah, well, a few things came up and we came out here and... I just thought we could talk in person."  
  
"What about?"  
  
"Buffy wants to know about the amulet," Dawn blurted out. Wesley stopped dead and turned to face her. "She said you would probably be the one to know anything about it, head of research and all."  
  
"What is it that she wants to know?" Wesley asked cautiously.  
  
"The thing is... she thinks that... Spike's alive," she said as they entered the training center. She had entered walking backwards to keep her attention on Wesley. She didn't even notice who was directly behind her as she said that last statement, until Wesley looked past her. She turned, and Spike was standing there, a tear streaming down his cheek in shock.

* * *

"You know, of all the places guys have taken me on dates, this has got to top the list," Buffy said sarcastically as she found herself standing with Whistler in a stone cellar beneath the post office. "I just had a strange feeling about this place, but never figured for there to be a mausoleum down here."  
  
"It's not a mausoleum. It's a gateway to the Realm of the Remembered, the Oracles," he replied as he threw colored sand into a fiery pit. The basin shot off green and purple sparks and a light blue smoke poured off the sides.  
  
"Realm of the Remembered. Guess that's not on the Map to the Star's Homes, is it?" she quipped. "What about this present?"  
  
"It's in there. You'll be met by a guide who will take you through the tunnels," he said as an archway emerged from the brick and glowed a brilliant snow white. "Get on then, I'll be here when you return!" he called as she entered the door.  
  
The hall she stood in upon entering gleamed a marvelous white marble with soaring columns and many more doors beyond. It was like nothing she had ever seen before, until she was struck from behind.  
  
Buffy fell to the floor with a thud. She tried to regain her footing, but she was hit again and pinned there by a heavy boot. She tried struggling, but it was no use. She was down for the count.  
  
"About time you got here," came a voice from above her, the accent a particularly thick Caribbean descent. 


	6. Faith, Hope, and Love

DISCLAIMER IS ON FIRST PAGE  
  
Birthday Girl "Faith, Hope, and Love"  
  
"Kendra?" Buffy whispered as she was allowed to regain her footing. She stood and faced the slayer summoned to replace her after she died at the Master's hands. She looked just the same, the baggy pants, the satin shirt, the corn-rowed ponytail. It was as if she hadn't been dead for seven years.  
  
"We've been waiting for you," Kendra stated as clearly as her accent would allow. She moved closer to her and dropped her fighting stance. "It's been a long time coming."  
  
"What has?"  
  
"Your gift."  
  
'Didn't you hear? I've been through this with the first slayer, and the shadowy guys. How many more gifts does a slayer need?"  
  
"Dis is a bit different," Kendra replied. "It is more of a reward."  
  
Buffy stood there and stared blankly at the former warrior. A reward, she thought to herself. Of all things, Buffy couldn't imagine ever getting a reward for her duty as the slayer. Well, except for the tiny sequined umbrella the Senior class gave to her at prom.  
  
"I wish you would have been there, fighting along side of us. We could have really used you down there."  
  
"I tink that it was my fate to not be. I was needed here," Kendra simply replied. She looked behind her to three figures slowly approaching them and nodded. "It begins," she said as she vanished and left Buffy alone with the three Oracles.  
  
Buffy turned around and gazed upon the women approaching her from the right. She recognized two of them right away as Anya and Cordelia. The third took up the rear. She was thin as a rail, but her smile beamed warmly beneath her brown eyes.  
  
"Hey you!" Cordy exclaimed as she rushed to Buffy and gave her a big hug. Anya smiled sweetly and did the same. "God, thought you'd never get here!"  
  
"Yeah, been a bit busy," Buffy replied. "But then again, never thought I'd be partying with the recently deceased."  
  
"Well, I'd been alive for so long, never thought I would know what dead felt like," Anya added.  
  
"So what, am I in a heavenly dimension or something?"  
  
"No," the thin girl answered. "This is the Realm of the Remembered. We were chosen post mortem to become oracles. I'm Fred, by the way."  
  
"Oh, I've heard of you," Buffy stated as it dawned on her who this girl was. "Angel told me about you."  
  
They stood in an awkward silence for a few moments. Buffy looked around at the room. She still couldn't get over the fact that she was standing amongst the dead, two of which she had come to know and trust as brave warriors. She wasn't really sure what to make of Fred, but figured that she must have earned her keep for being amongst the others.  
  
"So, what about this... present. I'm still kinda clueless as to why I'm here."  
  
"Well, I guess that's our cue to start," Cordelia responded. "Anya? Wanna begin?"  
  
Anya stepped toward a small font to Buffy's right. No water poured from the fountain head, so Buffy figured that none was in the basin also. This was confirmed by Anya pulling an item out of the basin, the mystical scythe. She glided back and faced Buffy, handing the weapon to her.  
  
"My gift is the gift of Faith. You pulled this scythe from the stone, and we found that it had great power entitled to the slayer. Not just you but all of the slayers born, unleashed by Willow's powerful magic. Even when we turned our backs on you, you still had faith in us that we could beat back the harvesting evil under the high school. You trusted us when we didn't trust you, and that meant the world... even to me.  
  
"You never backed out of your duties. I did wrong, and you did what you had to, you ran me through, almost killed me. I never thanked you for that."  
  
Buffy nodded and took the weapon from her hand. She turned face Fred, but Anya placed her hand upon her shoulder and produced a small white envelope.  
  
"Give this to Xander, and tell him... tell him I'm not scared anymore," Anya added as a tear fell down her rosy cheek. Buffy smiled and squeezed her hand. She knew that she had been brave for the cause, and that she shouldn't have died, but at least she died good. Anya backed away and allowed Fred to go next.  
  
Fred went to the font and extracted a bouquet of daisies, Buffy's favorites. She, too, glided back to Buffy and held them out to her as she smiled her warmest half smile.  
  
"My gift is the gift of Hope. You always had hope for a bright future, yours and that of others. You told the Potentials over and over that you would win, even if you didn't show it, or verbally speak it. You knew. You knew that one day, the First would be defeated. You felt it in your heart.  
  
"You also had strong hope for another. Hope that Spike could be a man, and he was. He went to the ends of the earth and beyond to become a better person, for you. You never gave up on him after he returned with his soul. He died, not only to save the world, but to save you."  
  
Buffy fought back her tears as Fred handed her the flowers. She, too, produced a small white envelope and handed it to her.  
  
"I know that you don't really know me, but know that I also died with hope in my heart. Give this to Wesley, and let him know that I'm okay, that I'm safe, and that I'm loved," she added proudly. As tears streamed down her face, Buffy took her hand as well and smiled at the frail girl before her. Fred stepped back, and Cordelia moved towards the font. Cordelia pulled out a rather bright red stone and brought it back to Buffy.  
  
"My gift is the gift of Love. We all have found ours and that's what brought us here. You are still searching, when yours is right in front of you, yet you do not pursue it. It's understandable. Yours is the one that disappeared from you.  
  
"This stone is not just representation of the love in your heart, the love you share with your friends and family," she said cautiously as Buffy looked upon her in confusion. "This stone represents that which was forgotten, or moreso... erased."  
  



	7. Forgotten Memories

DISLAIMER IS ON FIRST PAGE  
  
Birthday Girl "Forgotten Memories"  
  
Dawn stood frozen staring at the platinum blond vampire before her. She knew he was alive, she had heard his voice on the phone, but now he stood there, crying. She found the strength to move to him, to swipe the tears from his cheeks, and to smile.  
  
"You're here," he whispered. "You're not my imagination?"  
  
She shook her head and took in a staggered breath. Her protector scooped her up in a big hug that never seemed to end. The reunion was cut short, however.  
  
"What are you doing here?" Wesley said curtly from behind them. They pulled apart from each other to see that they were joined by a thin girl with blueish hair and skin to match. Her outfit was a bit unconventional, with the red leather and all. "I thought you were to stay in the lab for the time being."  
  
She looked upon Wesley in contempt and marched up to Spike. Her ice blue eyes stole away from him to look upon the young girl in her presence, whom she glared at in disgust.  
  
"I missed throwing around the half-breed. Thought I could come down and whip him into shape."  
  
"Hey, there will be no more throwing or whipping. I'm not your ragdoll," Spike snarled. The blueish figure never took her eyes off of Dawn.  
  
"Uh, Wesley? Why is she staring at me?" Dawn asked shakily as the demon started moving closer to her.  
  
"Illyria, that's enough," he snapped. "Would you please go back to the lab?" She took her gaze off of Dawn and looked back to Spike. She licked her lips viciously and stalked out of the training center.  
  
"Are you okay?" the vamp asked the girl tenderly. She nodded in return and let out a relieved sigh. "Wait, is..." he trailed.  
  
"She's here, but not exactly here at the moment," she replied. She sensed the sadness in his eyes as he realized that she was not in the building. "She'll be by later. Wesley was showing me the offices."  
  
"Yes, well, let's continue," Wesley said as he opened the door. She started for the door, but stopped.  
  
"Wanna come?" she asked Spike. He briskly joined her at the door. As happy as he was to see her, she almost saw him click his heels as they left the training center.

* * *

"Erased?" Buffy asked as she took the sparkling stone from Cordelia. She ran it in her hands and examined it. She began to feel as if she was in a trance. It mesmerized her as it began to glow and pulsate in her hand. Suddenly, a rush of images flew past, causing her eyes to flutter.

Everything came to her. She remembered it all. The visit to Los Angeles, the Mohra attack, Angel becoming human and their long awaited affair, him trying to defeat the demon himself and nearly getting killed, her plea for more time, all of it rushed back. She looked at the stone, taken from the forehead of the Mohra, and everything was clear. He gave up his humanity, to remain a champion. Then, as fast as it came, she stopped blinking, and understood. He gave up on her, and now, it infuriated her.  
  
"Why are you are you showing me this?" she asked Cordelia in disbelief. The tears she had shed for Spike moments before were now shed in rage.  
  
"Because, before you can make your final choice, you need all of the information," Cordy explained. "The Powers that Be think that it wouldn't be a just decision if you only had half of the story."  
  
"Final choice?"  
  
"There will be a decision to make, after we leave you," Anya replied. "We aren't allowed to reveal this to you. You have to make the journey on your own."  
  
Then, the room transfigured. Gone were the walls of cool marble. They were now outside. The trees bloomed a lush green and the sky was the brightest shade of blue Buffy had ever seen. Looking past the three, she saw the outside of her house. She turned and saw the street, Revello Drive, her street.  
  
"Inside holds your last present," Fred stated. "We'll leave you here." They all came up and hugged Buffy and wished her the best. They stood aside and let her past. As she reached the steps, she turned and as they waved her on, they slowly vanished.


	8. The Greatest Gift

DISCLAIMER IS ON FIRST PAGE

A/N: To answer a question, no, Illyria didn't know that Dawn was the Key, that didn't even cross my mind. She saw Dawn as a prominent figure in Spike's life (like how Fred is valuable to Wes, you know she uses that to her advantage) and she was gathering information. She saw into Dawn and saw how precious she is to Spike. I'll be elaborating more with my next piece.

* * *

Birthday Girl "The Greatest Gift"  
  
Buffy slipped inside the seemingly occupant-free house, slid down the door into a crouch and began to weep. Everything she had gone through the past few minutes, the past few days, the past few years had bore a hole through the slayer, and all she wanted to do now is crawl into a hole somewhere and cry.  
  
"Buffy? Is that you?" a voice called from the kitchen. She managed to get to her feet and start creeping toward the kitchen. It couldn't be her, it just couldn't, she thought to herself. As she cautiously entered, she recognized her right away. She couldn't forget her that easily, even after all this time apart.  
  
"Mom?" Buffy managed to squeak as the woman turned toward her. She was exactly as she had remembered, beautiful and soft-spoken. Joyce held her hand towards one of the stools at the counter, offering her to sit down.  
  
"I just made pancakes. You always felt better when I made you pancakes," she said with the same warm smile that made everything bad in Buffy's life seem to melt away.  
  
Buffy obliged and took a seat as Joyce plated up the breakfasty treat and placed a stack in front of her. Of course, she couldn't help but dig in, she hadn't eaten since the horrible airline lasagna. They were exactly as she remembered from her childhood, light and fluffy, served with butter, sugar and lemon juice instead of syrup. Joyce took the seat next to her daughter, modestly ecstatic that Buffy was here enjoying a long but forgotten Summers treat.  
  
"I have missed you so much," Joyce said as she pushed Buffy's hair behind her shoulder. She looked up from her plate and beamed. It had been so long for Buffy. The one person she never thought she would lose was her mom, and now here she was by her side, and she couldn't even think of what to say. She sat silently munching on a bite of pancake when she thought about Dawn.  
  
"This isn't right," Buffy blurted out, shaking her head. "Dawn should be here. She'll kill me if I-"  
  
"Taken care of," Joyce replied, cutting her off. She rose and opened the cabinet near the fridge and pulled out a small package. "There's one in there for both of you," she said as she handed it to Buffy. Inside were two necklaces, the pendants each adorned with blue jewels shaped like a star. "Wear these always, and if you or Dawn ever need to talk to me, just say the word and I'll be there. I am always with you."  
  
"Is this the last present? The one the oracles talked about?" she asked as she fastened the necklace behind her neck. Joyce sighed and sat back down next to her eldest daughter.  
  
"No. You have to make a choice, and it's not an easy one," Joyce began.

* * *

"So, that's the whole office," Wesley announced as he led Dawn and Spike back downstairs into the lobby. "Oh, and it's two. You're supposed to see Angel."  
  
"Oh, yeah... I forgot," she stammered. She looked at Spike, who was lighting another cigarette, his fourth since they had been reunited in the training center. She really didn't want to be anywhere else, now that she, and soon Buffy, had him back in their lives.  
  
"Go on Little Bit," he said softly to her. He gave her another big hug, and stroked her hair lightly with his fingertips. "I've got a bit of work to do, then we'll go out. Buy you and sis a big dinner, and we'll do some more talkin' then."  
  
She pulled away and watched him stalk off back towards the training center. She turned and knocked lightly on Angel's office and entered.

* * *

"Okay, let me get this straight, I get to choose, but I can't tell them, they have to figure it out for themselves."  
  
"Yes," Joyce replied as she took Buffy's hand.  
  
"And I have to give them time, it won't happen right away, right?"  
  
"I'm afraid so," Joyce said sadly. "I wish I could change things so that... but I can't, the Powers have that control, not me."  
  
"Mom, you know what it's going to be. Just tell me one thing, is he?"  
  
Buffy watched her mom as she looked up as if having a really deep thought about the question. She brought her head down and looked in her daughter's glistening hazel eyes.  
  
"Yes, he's there," she said with a sweet Mom-smile. Buffy took the last bite of her pancake and blotted her mouth lightly with her napkin so as not to smear her MAC lipstick.  
  
"And if we ever need anything..."  
  
"Just say the word and I'll be there."  
  
Buffy jumped from her seat, gave her Mom an overjoyed hug and ran out the door.

* * *

Whistler checked his watch for the third time since Buffy went through the archway. She had been gone ten minutes by this dimension's time, much longer than expected. Normally, the summoner returns upon entry, but something may have gone awry. As he gave up and started for the door to leave, Buffy stalked out of the realm with fire in her eyes.  
  
"So, how'd it go?"  
  
"I've got to go," she said, passing him up and not turning back. She held the red jewel up for him to see and retorted, "Got a present for Angel."


	9. Unfinished Business

DISCLAIMER IS ON FIRST PAGE  
  
Birthday Girl "Unfinished Business"  
  
Buffy stalked out of the elevator with fire in her eyes, Whistler trailing behind her. Ferocity surging, coursing through her veins, she walked the entire distance from the post office to the Wolfram and Hart building, never stopping to converse with the half demon who was trying to reason with her.  
  
As she approached the doors to Angel's office, Hamilton, the current liaison to the Senior Partners, appeared in front of her, obviously thinking he could halt her in her tracks.  
  
"You want to get out of my way?" she growled.  
  
"I'm sorry, Miss Summers, but Angel is quite busy," he stated icily as an evil smirk appeared across his smug face. "Maybe if you were to come back at a later time..."  
  
"If you don't remove yourself from in front of that door, I will take that smirk and stick where the sun does not shine," she replied curtly. The gentleman nodded unapprovingly and stepped aside as she bolted through the double wooden doors, slamming them behind her.

* * *

Spike entered the training center to find Illyria waiting for him. She held up her hand, beckoning him towards her.  
  
"I know what you're up to, Bluebird, and it's not gonna work," he said with a hint of contempt in his voice.  
  
"And what is that, half-breed?"  
  
"I see through you. You leave the girl alone."  
  
"I have no idea what it is you are talking about," she answered. She began to circle him like a hawk, but catching on, learning, he began to follow her.  
  
"The way you looked at her. You just put those thoughts out of that smurf- streaked head of yours," he stated, his patience wearing thin. "You stay away from her."  
  
"This girl, she means a great deal to you," she replied, "like Fred."  
  
"No," he said as he curled his lip in anger. "she's not like Fred."  
  
Illyria cocked an eyebrow at the vampire. Like him, she was adapting, learning. She looked deep into his eyes and found what it was she was looking for.  
  
"No, she isn't," she said with a grin. Her voice contorted then. "She's precious," she added... in Glory's voice.

* * *

Angel looked up from his paperwork to see Buffy angrily approach his desk. Her breath was heavy and she didn't blink as she stalked towards his desk.  
  
"What is it? What's wrong?" he asked gently as she glared at him with disgust.  
  
"Why don't you tell me?" she replied as she tossed him the glittering red jewel. He looked the bauble over and ran it under his rough fingers. "Tell me my fortune," she added angrily, yet softly.  
  
He remembered those words. When the Master rose, she threatened to quit being the Slayer. She had thrown books at Giles in a furious tantrum and stated that she didn't want to die. But now she was older, an adult. He knew there was a purpose to this outbreak. He held the jewel up to the light and it began to glow, feeding him images, familiar images.  
  
"Where did you get this?" he asked cautiously. She paused for a moment, then answered.  
  
"Cordelia."

* * *

"You get that voice outta your mouth, missy, or I'll rip it out," Spike spat as he and Illyria continued to waltz around the training room. "You stay away from the girl," he added slowly so she could understand him.  
  
"I've gained the information I needed from her. She is of no use to me," she replied. As they continued to round on each other, Harmony entered guardedly.  
  
"Um, Spike?" she began. "I think you better go to Angel's office."  
  
"What now?" he asked, never taking his eyes off the ancient demon still rounding on him.  
  
"Buffy's here," Harmony answered timidly.

* * *

"What gives you the right?!" Buffy spat as she slammed her hands against Angel's desk.  
  
"I did what I had to in order to protect you," he answered calmly.  
  
"Protect me? Is that what you're doing? Tell me when I have EVER needed you to protect me!"  
  
Angel found himself without a voice. He could think of all the times she had protected him, but a moment when she needed him to look out for her, he was flummoxed.  
  
"That's what I thought," she said softly as she turned towards the doors.  
  
"What do you mean, Cordelia gave it to you?" he asked coolly.  
  
"Whistler. He took me to see the Oracles."  
  
"The Oracles are dead," Angel replied, quite confused.  
  
"Looks like they've been replaced."  
  
"And they just conveniently gave you a memory, mind you a memory that you were not supposed to have, and you thought you'd stroll in here and throw it in my face?!"  
  
"Did you think that I'd never find out?" she cried defensively. "What makes you think that you could just decide my life's path for me?"  
  
Angel couldn't find words. She was right. He knew that she was right, and he hated that it always hurt her. He hated to see her so angry. It made her seem older and younger at the same time.  
  
Buffy regained some composure and swiped the tears from her cheeks with her fingertips. She looked around at the grandness of the office, which she hadn't gotten a chance to admire before.  
  
"I'm leaving tomorrow. I was planning on coming here civilly, but things happened."  
  
"Things always happen," Angel reassured her gently.  
  
She let out a sigh and remembered the main reason she had come here.  
  
"I had this dream... a few nights ago. It got me thinking, then I looked into it further." Angel listened intently as a figure appeared in the door behind her. "When were you going to tell me about Spike?" she asked as the figure came closer and closer to her.  
  
"When I was ready for you to know I was here," Spike answered as she turned around to face him, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. 


	10. Tough Love

DISCLAIMER IS ON FIRST PAGE  
  
A/N: Disregard the note on first page, I decided like 2 seconds ago to incorporate this directly after Girl in Question with this chapter.  
  
Birthday Girl "Tough Hearts"  
  
"We need to talk," Spike said softly as tears welled up in her reddened eyes. Buffy stood frozen, then nodded. He glanced over her shoulder at Angel, who gritted his teeth at him in silence. Spike let out a small chuckle, knowing exactly what he was thinking. He put his hand on the girl's shoulder and led her out of the office. In the lobby, Dawn stood waiting for them at the reception desk.  
  
"Just give us a minute, Little Bit," Spike whispered as he ushered Buffy towards a vacant office. Once inside, they took seats opposite each other, but could not bring themselves to look at one another. They sat in silence for several moments until Buffy finally broke the silence.  
  
"How long have you..." she softly trailed.  
  
"Awhile now. Lost track of days, really," he answered stoically.  
  
"Why didn't you call?"  
  
"And say what? I'm not a big pile of heroic dust any more?"  
  
Buffy sniffled. He was right. She knew that this could not be easy for him. Lord knows it wasn't easy for her. Thoughts began to swirl her head and she finally gave in and broke down. Spike rushed to her, crouched down in front of her and took the sobbing girl in his arms.  
  
"Hey, hey, shh," he said gently. "It's alright, I'm here."  
  
She looked up into his deep blue eyes. He was different than she remembered. There were no burns, no scars. He was completely unscathed, completely perfect. At that moment, she realized that she couldn't remember what it was like before she had seen those eyes. Knowing that, she slapped him.  
  
"Ow! What was that for?"  
  
"For not believing me," she whispered shakily. Her bottom lip quivered as she took in a staggered breath. A burning revelation surged through Spike. He brushed his thumb across her lips, then drew her into a passionate kiss.  
  
It was unlike any other kiss they had ever shared. It was pure and true, almost like they had never kissed before. For a fraction of a second, they could faintly hear the swell of the rising music. As they gently pulled away from each other, another tear streamed down Buffy's cheek.  
  
"I'm here," Spike reassured her. "I'm not leaving you for a second."  
  
Buffy looked down at her hands. As much as she wanted to be with him from that moment on, she knew that there was a bigger plan for the vampire.  
  
"It's not our time yet," she said sadly as she brought her gaze back up to meet his.  
  
"This isn't about the Immortal is it?"  
  
"No," she replied. "That, with him, wasn't love. It was fleeting."  
  
"Then what-"She cut him off by pressing her finger against his lips to shush him.  
  
"I have to go back... to Italy. We'll be together when the time's right."  
  
"Just when I thought I had you, Summers, you up and leave again," he remarked, grief stinging his voice. "Any way I can talk you out-"  
  
She interrupted him again by pulling him into another gentle kiss. As she broke her lips away from his, she rested against him, forehead to forehead, and sniffled as she looked into his eyes.  
  
"We're not Ross and Rachel, and I'm not getting off the plane," she whispered, tears streaking down her cheeks like raindrops on a windshield. He gave a timid chuckle. He remembered how she always patrolled an hour later on Thursday so as to catch her favorite program. She blinked, and then found not heartache, but understanding in his gaze.  
  
"I know," he said gently, a few tears falling down his face now, "I get it. Don't necessarily mean I like it, but you have to."  
  
Buffy smiled weakly and kissed his cheeks where the tears had fallen. She leaned to the side and grabbed her bag, from which she extracted the neatly folded red shirt.  
  
"I found this, thought you might want it back," she said thoughtfully as she tried to hand it to him. However, he pushed it back towards her.  
  
"Keep it," he said shakily "I'll be back for it one day."  
  
"Spike, I can't. It's your favorite."  
  
"Consider it a Birthday present," he replied as he embraced her one last time and gave her one last tearful kiss. 


	11. Epilogue

DISCLAIMER IS ON FIRST PAGE  
  
Birthday Girl, "Epilogue"  
  
The door opened and Buffy and Spike exited the office. They exchanged a thoughtful hug as Dawn emerged from Wesley's office. They broke apart and Spike took Dawn in an even grander embrace.  
  
"You have to go with big sis, Bit," Spike whispered in the young girl's ear. "Finish school, and be good for me."  
  
Tears welled in Dawn's eyes. She didn't want to let him go, not again. She broke from him and tried her best to put on her strong face, despite the rolling droplets collecting on the floor in front of her. She looked to Buffy.  
  
"We're only a call away," she reassured her kid sister.  
  
Dawn nodded as they were joined by Wesley, Angel, and Harmony. It was so difficult for the two Summers girls. Just when the reunion was starting, they had to cut it short with goodbyes.  
  
Buffy gave Wesley a small hug and thanked him for looking after Dawn, and awkwardly said goodbye to Harmony, as the two were never very close, even when Harmony was alive. Dawn crossed over to Angel as Buffy looked on.  
  
"Thank you," she whispered as she took the tortured vampire into an embrace, this one more timid than the one she bestowed upon Spike. As she pulled away, Angel tried to give her a reassuring smile, but it didn't seem to work that well.  
  
"Yeah, well... anytime," he replied with a tiny nod. He tried to motion to Buffy, but she took a slight step backward. He nodded in understanding. It hurt him so much to not be allowed by her to say goodbye, but he knew that things were not great between them.  
  
Buffy turned one last time to Spike, wringing the red shirt in her hands. The sight almost made him cringe, but he had to remind himself that it was her nerves acting up and that he'd probably do the same thing. He gave a small sniffle, and looked deeply over her. Tears stained the front of her blouse and she couldn't bring her eyes to meet his. He pulled her into his arms and kissed the top of her head ever so gently.  
  
"You need anything, you or Dawn, say the word, and I'll be there," he whispered. He felt her head nod beneath his chin and let her go. She took Dawn's hand and squeezed it lightly and together, they walked out of Wolfram and Hart.  
  
It wasn't their time yet, but it would be. Maybe someday, but not today. 


End file.
